I is the “poundee”

My diabetic son is 30. We get along okay, low blood sugars are something only other folks with that disease know about. Its dinner, he is making a sandwich, then silence: I run to his side of thetable.his smile is cold,eyes piercing.I call 911; while talking, screams come from the other room.

He has a kitchen knife poised to stab his mom and my wife. I walk up, start laughing, say”me first”do me. I grab the knife. take him to his bed room and start to give him a shot of glucose.His fists pound my head as I bob and twist trying to give him the shot.

I look up and see the biggest cop watching me along with 3 others. “hi fellows, I say, I am getting pounded here, you might want to wait a second.” The cop says,”No I am the poundee!? step aside, They fixed Brian. He was back to normal. He does this all the time. As long as you don”t kill someone. You can get away with anything with a low blood sugar/






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